by Brad Ewell
Adoption reunions, even at their very best, can be horribly complicated. This is what I tell adoptees, first parents, and adoptive parents when the topic of reunion comes up. My goal isn’t to scare anyone away from attempting reunion. I think it’s important to go into an adoption reunion fully aware of the complexities surrounding what’s ahead. Understanding the bigger picture related to the reunion allows everyone involved to manage their expectations and recognize that many of the things they hope for are, to some extent, out of their control.
My adoption story began much later in life. It wasn’t until 2019, when I was forty-eight years old, that I learned I was adopted. To answer the question I often get at this point, I had no clue, suspicion, or even an inkling that I was adopted. I knew I was different than my parents in both physical and personality traits. Still, the furthest thing from my mind was that these differences existed because we weren’t biologically related. I had long ago decided the differences were my fault and had accepted as best I could that I couldn’t seem to get with the family program.
The short version of my adoption discovery began with my wife and I doing an Ancestry DNA test for “fun” because my parents always avoided the topic of our more extended/historical family, and I wanted to know if I was Irish. A few years after we did the test, a woman reached out to ask if we knew how we could be related. A couple of weeks later, she told us her sister had given up a child for adoption at birth, and she believed I was her sister’s son. Less than 48 hours after this, I was on the phone with my dad when I first heard the words “you’re adopted” directed at me.
My reunion story has been extremely positive overall; my biological family welcomed me with open arms and we remain in contact seven years later. However, like the warning I give when I talk to people about reunion, it’s had its fair share of complications. My first two reunion complications came as part of my adoption discovery. The first was that my biological mom had passed away nineteen years prior. At the time of my adoption discovery, I was less than five months from outliving my bio-mom. Both knowing I’d never be able to meet her and how close I was to the age when she passed were bitter truths to sit with. The second was that while my biological father was alive, he was in prison serving the forty-seventh year of a life sentence. I was in my twenty-sixth year working in law enforcement, which left me with some deeply ingrained preconceived notions about my bio-father. On the simpler side of things, I was excited to learn that I went from being an only child to having three half-siblings, two of whom lived less than forty-five minutes away. The aunt who found me through Ancestry lived in another state, but I had two other aunts who lived close by. For me, reunions wouldn’t require the travel many adoptees have to do when they want to see their bio-family.
The first person I met face-to-face was my half-sister from my bio-mom’s side of the family. In hindsight, this was the perfect way to begin my reunion journey. To quote the great philosopher Forrest Gump, we went together “like peas and carrots.” That first meeting didn’t feel like I was meeting a stranger. It was more like seeing an old friend after several years and just picking up where we’d left off. There was an undeniable sense of connection that we both immediately felt. We spent several hours over dinner and drinks with my wife and my sister’s fiancé learning about each other’s lives. There was no forced conversation or awkward pauses. We both had more information we wanted to know and share than we could fit into a single evening. Over the next almost five years, she was my go-to source for information about our mom and any other family lore I had questions about. We’d spend hours texting and talking on the phone, sometimes filling in the gaps from those lost years, but more often, just enjoying each other’s company. In 2022, my wife and I were able to go to Las Vegas with my sister and her fiancé to be witnesses at their wedding ceremony overlooking Lake Mead. Unfortunately, this part of my reunion story carries one of the bitterest complications. Shortly after my sister and I met for the first time, she was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Less than five years after that first meeting, she was gone. Many adoption reunions happen later in life. Because of this, it’s important to keep in mind that time is not on your side.
After meeting my sister, I began to pick up the pace of my reunions. Over the next several months, I met my half-brother from my bio-dad’s side of the family as well as the majority of my bio-mom’s extended family. It would take a little over a year to meet my half-brother on bio-mom’s side because he lived farther away and we both had hectic work and family schedules. These reunions taught me many valuable lessons. The first was to be sure I understood what I was walking into. I’m introverted by nature, and large crowds can be a lot for me to deal with. My next meeting with my bio-mom’s side of the family, I thought I’d be meeting just a couple of additional people. You can imagine my surprise when I walked into a room with around fifteen new family members. It was both amazing and completely overwhelming all at once. While I wouldn’t trade that experience, I learned to ask more questions when we got together so I knew what to prepare for. I also learned our shared DNA didn’t mean we’d all have the same deep connection I felt with my sister. This wasn’t a negative reflection on anyone; some people just click better than others. While I grew closer to some bio-family members, I cherished the time I got with each one. Everyone was very generous with stories and helping me better understand my roots. I did my best to reciprocate by sharing my stories from childhood and adult life before meeting them.
The reunion everyone seems most curious about is with my bio-dad. It took me almost a year before I decided to meet him in person. The final decision to go through with this reunion came after about six months of therapy and the hard question, “If he died tomorrow and you never got to meet him, would you have any regrets?” As I mentioned earlier, I came into this particular reunion with many preconceived notions about who I was meeting. I expected someone who likely wouldn’t take responsibility for his actions, viewed the world as against him, and in general would have an excuse for every reason that landed him in prison. Before walking into our first meeting, I’d already decided this would be a “one and done” situation. I hoped to learn as much as I could over the time we got together and then move on with my life. My bio-dad was the polar opposite of the person I expected to meet. Instead of offering excuses for why he was there, he owned up to the decisions he made that put him in prison and showed sincere remorse for his actions. As our visit went on, it became easy for me to see both the physical and personality traits we shared. He also shared a similar personality to my raising dad. After the visit, I sat in my car and called my wife to deliver news I never expected. When she asked how the visit went, I said, “I like him, and I don’t know what to do with that.” What I decided to do with that was spend the next year getting to know him better. This led to me advocating for his parole eligibility, testifying at his first parole hearing, and finally wrapping him up in a bear hug as he walked out of the prison gate after over fifty years. Today he lives forty-five minutes away from me, and we are still close.
While I began with what may have sounded like an ominous warning regarding adoption reunions, I hope my story has highlighted both the beauty to be found in reunions and some of the hardships that can come. I have good friends who experienced complete rejection from their biological families, and I can’t begin to imagine the toll that must take. In the end, you’ve got to make the reunion decision that’s right for you. I have some friends that want nothing to do with searching for or reuniting with their biological family. I respect that decision because I cannot deny the toll this journey takes on you. For me, I have no regrets. I finally understand myself and can see where both my nature and nurture have molded me into the man I am today. I’m more at peace with myself than at any time before this journey, and I’m so grateful for all the people who helped me along the way.
Brad Ewell is a domestic, late-discovery adoptee, born in 1970 and a retired police officer. He served as a board member for Right to Know for several years. Brad has told his adoption discovery story as part of a Moth Main Stage Show that was released this year on their podcast, The Moth Radio Hour. You can connect with Brad on IG @a_late_discovery or by email at mpebrad@gmail.com.